Disclaimer/Author's Note – See Chapter One

Chapter Six – Assigning Blame

Grissom strode into the lab earlier than normal the next day. He had caught a few hours sleep on Sara's couch, before heading home for a shower and change of clothes. Sara assured him that she'd be fine when he left, and that she'd be at work in a few hours. He had protested at first, telling her to take some time off, but she'd refused. She needed to see how this played out.

'I won't touch any evidence, if that will make you more comfortable,' she told him. 'Strictly research.'

Turning into the break-room to get some much needed coffee, he saw Nick and Catherine with their heads together.

'Have you two been here all night?' he asked them.

'No,' Catherine replied, 'Just got here.'

'I got a couple hours sleep and then came back to process the car,' Nick told him. 'Got a sweet little partial on the rear view mirror. Matches the ones we found on the bullets.'

'Still no ID?' Grissom asked him.

'Not yet. And the hairs you found in the hat didn't have skin tags, so no DNA. But I checked out their morphology. Dark hair, maybe shoulder length.'

'Sara's friend Jill has shoulder length dark hair,' Catherine confirmed. 'And there's something about her…'

'She lied when you interviewed her. About Sara buying the drinks,' Grissom told her. 'Sara says Jill put the drinks on her room tab, and it was Jill who went to the bar, not Sara. Maybe its time for another little chat?'

'No can do,' Catherine replied. 'Brass just called me. He went back over to the Tangiers, and Jill's checked out.'

'Damn it,' Grissom replied. 'Any lead on where she might have gone?'

'Not yet, but Brass is getting a warrant for her phone records. I'll have him check out her bill while he's at it. Confirm Sara's story in case any official channels start taking an interest.' Catherine paused, and took a deep breath. 'Which reminds me. Ecklie's looking for you.'

'He can wait,' Grissom replied, not in the mood. 'I've been thinking about the warehouse. Maybe the killer knew it was going to be used a few days after the murder. Maybe that was the point. I think the killer wanted the body found soon, but not too soon.'

'But she wasn't banking on two teenagers finding the body only hours after the murder,' Nick followed his train of thought.

'After a day or two the rohypnol would have been gone from Sara's blood,' Grissom went on.

'And Sara would have been in the frame for murder with no alibi and a ton of evidence against her,' Catherine concluded.

'Hey guys,' Sara greeted them as she walked into the room, apparently not having overheard their conversation. 'Any new leads?'

'Your friend Jill might have skipped town,' Catherine told her. 'Any idea where she might have gone?'

'We got another problem,' Warrick interrupted, walking fast into the room. 'Got the ID on the victim.'

'Why is that a problem?' Grissom wanted to know.

Warrick shot Sara a look full of regret. 'It's Hank Peddigrew.'

'Damn it,' Sara said, walking into the locker room and slamming her fist into a locker. Grissom was close behind her.

'I'm sorry,' Grissom told her in a soft voice. He remained at the door, giving her space as she roamed the room like a caged animal.

'I don't care about your theory that it was about both of us, Grissom. This is my fault,' Sara told him. 'The killer used my identity to kill Hank. My gun. It was probably even my friend.'

'Sara…' Grissom began, but she cut him off.

'Hank arrived at that warehouse after his killer did. He saw my car. He must have thought he was meeting me. It's my fault, Griss…' Tears threatened in her eyes again, her voice breaking.

'You can't blame yourself,' Grissom told her.

'The hell I can't,' she replied angrily. 'Damn it. I hate this. I hate how out of control my life has become.'

'She only has control on your life if you let her,' Grissom reasoned. 'And you won't. We'll get her, I promise.'

'False promises, Grissom. You don't know that,' Sara shot back. 'And my life was out of control long before any of this happened. Has been for a couple of years now. Ever since…'

She broke off, unsure if she should go on. She looked at him, her vulnerability never more apparent. Grissom watched her, real fear welling up in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to spare her further pain, whatever the cost. Emotions he had long suppressed and shielded himself from were surfacing, and it terrified him.

'I have always been in control of my life, Grissom,' she began slowly. 'Always kept work and personal separate. It was easy. I mean, if you don't have a private life, how can it affect your work, right?' she laughed ironically. 'Then I moved here and everything changed. I started losing my control. My personal feeling started slipping into my working life and I didn't know how to deal with it. Every since my feelings started to deepen for…' she broke off, unable to continue.

'Hank,' Grissom concluded quietly.

'You, Grissom,' Sara corrected him. 'It was just a crush, initially. Hero worship. Ever since I met you at that seminar in Berkley. But then I moved here, and I … I allowed myself to get close to you. And everything changed.'

'Sara…' he interrupted, intensely uncomfortable. 'We shouldn't be talking about this. Not here. Not now.'

'Damn it, Grissom, if not here and now, then when and where?' Sara's voice was tight with frustration. 'We've danced around this subject for 4 years. Ignoring it isn't changing anything. Maybe we need to confront it, head on. Maybe then I can start getting some control back.'

She sat down on a bench, arms wrapped tightly around her in a defensive pose.

'I've never let anyone get close to me. Didn't need to. Until I met you,' she said quietly. 'And it scares the hell out of me. Every mistake I've made; the drinking, Hank, has been born out of that fear. Everything has spiralled out of control since I allowed myself to have feelings for you. And I don't know how to regain the control I used to have.'

Grissom sighed deeply. 'You'll get the control back. It just takes time.'

'Maybe I should just quit. Maybe this is what all this, the set up, has been about. Maybe I'm done here.'

'You're not done,' anger tinged Grissom's voice now. 'Damn it, Sara, you're one of the best CSIs we've got. You're good at what you do. And you're stronger than this.'

'I'm not, Grissom,' she said, defeated. 'I'm not like you. I can't just choose to ignore this.'

'What does that mean?' he demanded.

'I heard you, Grissom,' she told him, looking into his eyes with such sadness he thought his heart would break. 'That case several months ago, Debbie Marlin. The girl who looked like me…'

'How did you…?'

'..Know she looked like me? After you so obviously kept me away from the crime scene? You should know me by now Grissom. I needed to see what you felt you had to protect me from, so I went to the morgue. Saw her face.' She paused, and then slowly turned her face to Grissom, locking her eyes with his. 'And then I went to the interview room when you and Brass interviewed Lurie. I heard what you said to him.'

She rose from the bench and moved away from him. She continued to hug herself as if freezing.

'You described yourself as a sad middle-aged man who had allowed your work to consume your life. Then you talked about being given a second chance with someone you could care about.'

Grissom was unable to speak. He gave a small nod, while watching the beautiful, hurting woman in front of him. Sara still didn't look around, but continued in the same quiet tone.

'You said you had to make a decision. To risk everything you'd worked for, for the chance of a new life. And you couldn't do it.'

'Sara,' Grissom began quietly. 'How did you know? That it was you?'

'You just told me.'

Grissom let out a breath. He didn't know where to go from here, but he knew that now was not the right time for this. Sara had been through enough in the last 48 hours, and dealing with whatever it was between them was not going to help matters.

'Sara, this isn't… you've been through enough. We can deal with… with our problems when all of this is over. It's not the reason any of this is happening.'

Sara turned to look at him, tears gleaming in her dark eyes.

'Isn't it?' She leaned against the wall as though suddenly exhausted. 'I've screwed up big time, Grissom.'

'Stop blaming yourself, Sara.'

'I told her. All of it.' Seeing the confusion that registered on his face, she went on, 'Jill. We've been in regular contact via email for years. Ever since college. I told her everything. About you. About Hank. I completely spilled my guts. I didn't have anyone here I could talk to. So I talked to her.'

'So the notes? She got the information from you?' Grissom needed her to spell it out.

'Yeah,' she sunk back down onto the bench, her head in her hands. 'I'm so sorry, Grissom.'

'Hey,' he said gently, moving towards her. He crouched down in front of her and softly placed a hand under her chin, making her look at him. 'This is not your fault, Sara. You trusted her.'

'Yeah,' she replied, not truly believing his words.

Grissom stood back up and offered Sara his hand, helping her to her feet.

'Now go home,' he insisted. 'Get some rest. I'll drop by your apartment in a little while and check on you.'

For a moment, he thought she would argue, but then she gave him a small nod. 'Thanks, Grissom.'

Moving past him, she picked up her jacket. His voice stopped her at the door.

'You're wrong about one thing, Sara,' he told her in a soft voice. 'I'm the weak one. Not you.'

Not trusting herself to turn around, Sara gave a half shrug and left.

To Be Continued...